


An Outsider in Fódlan

by Squishy (BurbleJerry)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Culture Shock, Gen, Humor, Pre-Time Skip, Spoilers, The Golden Scheme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Squishy
Summary: A look into Claude's thoughts on Fodlan as he mingles with the upper crust of the Alliance before moving on to the monastery.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	An Outsider in Fódlan

The Alliance capital swarmed with nobles and their constant chatter. Claude found that his usual attitude was considered casual by their standards, so much so that the nobles took offense to him at every turn. Luckily, he was learning a lot from those nobles through their posturing and outrageous behavior. The nobility would grow tired of prodding him after a while, and during one such lull he leaned back in his chair and stretched out his stiff limbs. Glancing across the table, he waved casually at Judith, who shook her head at him. She may have been his introduction to this noble society, but even she got tired of his antics. He didn’t mind, because making people frustrated enough to slip-up was the point. That, and he managed to get time to learn about the other half of his heritage.

Everything Claude’s mother had told him about Fódlan paled in comparison to being there. He’d almost lost his carefree mask several times while gawking at all the differences: the people, the outfits, the weather, the trees, and countless other things. He tried to keep track of all the differences and virtually couldn’t.

Raised voices at a nearby table almost startled Claude out of his reverie. After all, hearing noble-accented Fódlanese from anyone other than his mother still felt unreal. It was as if everyone here were copying his mom, instead of the other way around. Whenever he spoke to a noble, he expected them to make fun of his accent; when they inevitably didn’t, he remembered that he wasn’t in Almyra anymore. The nobility never found anything wrong with his accent, per se.

Claude looked up as he noticed another noble approaching. They had been curious about him, similar to how a stalking coyote was curious about new prey.

The nobleman introduced himself before making his curiosity plain. “So, you are the new heir of Duke Riegan,” he stated rather than asked—polite, even while looking Claude over with distaste. “I must admit, I did not realize that Duke Riegan had an heir in the wings, much less one that speaks so well despite your lack of time among us.”

“I get that a lot,” Claude drawled casually, “and I can’t wait to see more of the Alliance. It’s pretty neat here, and you’re all so nice to me. Really, a guy could get used to this sort of thing.” He ended with a wink, ignoring the nobleman’s startled and offended expression.

Judith frowned, but as she opened her mouth to intervene, the nobleman muttered a barely-polite farewell and stormed off. She shook her head at Claude. Claude shrugged, pretending as if he was confused , and went back to watching the room and ruminating to himself.

The far door opened as some of the nobility began to leave the gathering. A breeze was briefly let in, but only Claude shivered from it. He had been warned, over and over, to dress warmly in Fódlan; he’d scoffed at first, but then he’d quickly come to understand why. The day wasn’t marked by heat, but instead by a temperature that the natives called ‘a nice day today’ and Claude called “chilly”. At least the interior of the mansion was warm.

Being the curious fellow that he was, Claude watched the mansion’s inhabitants with as much interest as he’d observed Fódlan itself on the trip in. The upper crust of the Alliance behaved so differently from similarly high-ranking Almyrans that Claude initially had a hard time believing they were nobles at all if it weren’t for their expensive stuff.

Claude glanced at another table, observing The Tea Ritual that Judith had previously drilled into his brain. The attention to detail for such a seemingly simple pastime was still unbelievable to him. He watched the two nobles chat with one another, seated exactly equidistant from one another because it was “proper”. No doubt, whichever one had suggested The Tea Ritual had chosen the blend to best suck up to the other person. Claude wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the table, chairs, teacups, tea kettle, and clothes had all been coordinated for The Tea Ritual.

The really fascinating thing about The Tea Ritual, in Claude’s opinion, was how formulaic it was. Whoever had suggested tea acted as the host of the tea party; they had to renew conversation when it lulled, and they had to do so in a way that interested their partner. For example, when Judith was showing him The Tea Ritual, he learned that she wasn’t interested in talking about cats.

Judith had told Claude not to call it The Tea Ritual in front of the nobility, even if the amused quirk of her lips told him that she also thought it was funny.

A flash of red light caught Claude’s attention, and he looked to another table where a noble was manifesting their Crest for a bunch of sycophants. Claude leaned forward and squinted at that Crest, trying to identify which one it was. He didn’t care about that particular noble, per se; not beyond that person’s political power to push Claude’s agenda. What he genuinely cared about—what inspired him to visit the lands of “the enemy”—was the power of Crests.

Claude abruptly remembered being a young child again. As if it were yesterday, he recalled feeling the power in his veins, finally figuring out how to control it just enough to manifest the Crest of Riegan. He remembered how his mother gasped, how she had scooped him up as if pulling him away from an irritated snake or angry wyvern. How she’d plied him with questions that confused and scared him: how long could he do this, why had he never mentioned it, did he feel anything, and so on.

When she finally told Claude the truth of his power was when his curiosity truly began. Whenever he struggled, he could count on the strange, healing power of his Crest and how it had saved his life on multiple occasions. He knew he had to learn more. While a part of him also wanted to know about his mother’s side of the family, his interest truly had begun with his Crest.

At first, Claude had tried to learn more while he was in Almyra. He poked and prodded and pried his mother for information until she was beyond tired of it. He scoured every library and looked through every book and scroll on Fódlan. Until one day, while he heaped questions on his combat instructor, the man finally asked in exasperation, “Why don’t you just go to Fódlan and find out?” After that, he eventually managed to convince his parents to let him make the trip.

Even while deep in thought, Claude was aware of his surroundings: it was a skill that he’d cultivated years ago. He smiled lazily at the uppity, snobby nobles, who stared or glanced at him, who whispered and scowled and shook their heads. The Fódlanese upper-crust regarded him with obvious suspicion and distrust. Despite his origins being a secret, the mere fact that he’d shown up from nowhere, and that he didn’t have a stick up his bum like the other nobles, branded him as an outsider.

When Claude first arrived in Fódlan, he had been surprised to find such a hostile welcome. People were as insular as ever, no matter where they were from. At first, he’d felt foolish for having thought otherwise.

Despite the strangeness of Fódlan and his cold reception from the natives, Claude came to realize something: if people were the same at heart, what was stopping them from understanding each other? Surely, he’d figured, there was common ground if their prejudice was already a common theme.

Claude subtly glanced at Judith when he heard her fingers tap impatiently on the table. He knew that she was at least a little more open-minded than her fellow nobles, and that she’d somehow dodged the snobbishness and frippery. Idly, he wondered if she would get along with his old combat instructor. Maybe they would drive each other mad, but he suspected that the two would understand each other pretty well.

Then again, Claude knew he didn’t need to wonder. He already had an example of how well people from two different worlds could get along: his parents. His mother was the bravest person he knew, and she’d thrown away this posh, aristocratic life just to be with the man she loved. His father was a great man, but even though he was an example to his fellow Almyrans, the hatred for outsiders persisted. Claude wondered if the son of such a hated union could change people’s minds. Regardless, he was determined to try. That was why he’d come to Fódlan; that was why he tolerated all the distrust and dislike. Even with all of the differences between their countries, if two people could fall in love, then why couldn’t people overcome their baseless hate?

“Lost in thought, boy?” Judith’s voice grabbed his attention. She shook her head at him. “It’s about time for us to leave. Are you ready?”

“Yup, let’s go. We’re not getting any younger,” Claude responded. Judith glared at him. “Hey, I said, ‘we’,” he added, hands held up placatingly until her brow became less furrowed.

As they stood to leave, Claude reflected on his budding dream. He thought about the rumors of a weapon that could break mountains and wondered whether or not that was metaphorical. He knew it couldn’t be so simple, but to break down the physical barrier between nations was a start, and it was all he had. With Judith leading the way, they left the mansion, their last stop before they would reach Garreg Mach Monastery.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudos and/or comment if you enjoyed! Working on this piece was a particular joy, and I appreciate everyone who was involved.
> 
> If you like my work, then please consider checking out my personal/writing https://twitter.com/Squishy_Jerry !


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